• Published 31st Aug 2018
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SAPR - Scipio Smith



Sunset, Jaune, Pyrrha and Ruby are Team SAPR, and together they fight to defeat the malice of Salem, uncover the truth about Ruby's past and fill the emptiness within their souls.

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Double Date (New)

Double Date

"Remind me," Neon said, "why are we here?"

"Because God would have it so, it seems," Ciel replied.

Neon's eyes narrowed, even as she contrived to look at Ciel out the side of them. "I meant why are we on this rooftop?"

"I know," Ciel said, calmly and almost casually.

Neon was silent for a moment. "Are you in a funny mood?"

"No," Ciel said firmly. "Why would I be in such a thing?"

"I don't know; why won't you answer a simple question?" asked Neon.

Ciel sighed. "I apologise," she murmured. "It was … an impatient answer in the least. The correct answer to your question is that we are here because from here I can see Benni Haven's through the scope of Distant Thunder."

To prove the point, she hefted the rifle up and raised it to her shoulder, looking through the scope down upon the restaurant below. She and Neon were stood on the roof of one of Beacon's dormitories, the dorm room used by the first year Beacon students, in point of fact. Ciel believed that directly below them was the room of Team WWSR. It was a good vantage point, with a view of the CCT tower across the campus, the courtyards below, and of course, the restaurant just beyond the school boundaries.

She had a bird's eye view of half the school from up here.

"Okay," Neon said. She crouched down at the edge of the roof, her legs spread apart and her elbows resting on her knees. She had a telescope in one hand, a boxy instrument like an old-fashioned video camera, and she raised it briefly to one eye as if to confirm that she, too, had eyes on the restaurant, before she lowered it. "So why do you want to see the diner through your scope? And why do you need a spotter?"

"Because Amber is going there tonight, and I'm going to cover her," Ciel replied. "And you are going to spot for me."

"Am I?"

"Do you have anything better to do?" Ciel asked.

"Oh, wound me, why don't you, prod at my bruises?" Neon whined theatrically. "No, no, I don't have anything better to do because I am confined to campus, as you well know." She paused. "You, on the other hand, what are you doing up here? Why aren't you down in Vale with Dashie and Blake and Blake's mom?"

"Someone has to watch over Amber," Ciel replied.

"Why?" asked Neon. "Sure, she's Professor Ozpin's niece, three cheers for nepotism, but so what? If he wants to have her protected, he should put his hand in his pocket and hire a bodyguard, but okay, fine, he's cheap, so he gets some of his students to do it for him, but you're not a Beacon student, so why are you standing up here with your gun, ready to watch over her when she shows herself?"

Because she is one of the most important girls alive in the world today, Ciel thought. Not that she could say that to Neon, obviously. She glanced down at the drop off the roof. Just another step, and she would be in for rather a fall. Her aura would not like it, to say the least.

"You know," Ciel said softly, "it occurs to me that Team Wisteria below can probably hear everything that we are saying."

Neon looked down. "You think so?"

"It is not so far to their window, I believe," Ciel said.

Neon paused for a moment, before she called down, "Yo, Team Wisteria, can you hear us?"

"Yeah," replied a voice that sounded like Russel Thrush. "We can hear everything."

"Then shut the window and cover your ears; this is private!" Neon yelled.

"It's our room!" Russel cried.

"So what, it isn't your rooftop!" Neon snapped. She glanced at Ciel. "There, you were saying? Not that I honestly think that you would be about to say anything that you would be embarrassed by other people hearing. Unless you would."

"I very much hope not," Ciel said dryly.

"So?" Neon demanded. "What's the answer? Why are you up here?"

"I am here because my duties do not cease to apply just because someone is not an Atlesian; Amber needs help," Ciel said. "She has been attacked once; she may be attacked again, for all we know."

"So it wasn't grimm who attacked her the first time," Neon said. "I thought it must be, to have given her those…" — she mimed swiping a set of claws across her own face — "to remember them by, but you wouldn't be worried about grimm coming back for her, not here. For that matter, you wouldn't be worried about bandits coming back for her. Yeah, sure, I could see that someone might try and grab Professor Ozpin's niece on the road, hold her for ransom, but here? At Beacon? They'd be nuts."

Ciel was somewhat inclined to agree; to attack Amber here, at Beacon, would rash even by the standards of Cinder and her allies, foolish even. Their chances of getting away with it would be low, verging upon nonexistent. Nevertheless, that only held so long as Amber's protectors did not grow overconfident. If they relaxed their watch here, then, conversely, they would make Beacon the most dangerous place for Amber to be.

"Only if, and because, we keep our guards up," she said.

"What's so important about her?" Neon asked. "What makes her so special?"

Ciel thought about Sunset's advice, to just tell Neon everything and hang the consequences. It was … tempting, in all honesty. She had known Neon Katt longer than anyone at Atlas or Beacon, longer than some of her own brothers. It was not easy to keep secrets from her, nor to justify why Ciel should know the truth but Neon should not. Neon was as valiant as Ciel was, and more skilled at close quarters — though Ciel could hardly fail to be a better shot. And yet, Ciel had been chosen, as much because she was on a team with Rainbow Dash as anything else. If Ciel could know, then why should Neon not? What right had Ciel to keep the truth from her?

I have the passive right of not having been granted permission to tell her.

I have the right of having been ordered to keep this to myself.

And if ever there was a moment to render to the king that which was his, surely, it was this one.

"General Ironwood has asked us to assist with Amber's security for the time being," Ciel said. "He has not said why, and it is his prerogative to make this request without explanation. It is little hardship for me in any case; I find Amber sweet; a little naïve, perhaps, something of an ingénue taken to the extreme, but nevertheless, it is little hardship."

"Even though you could be down in Vale right now, with Blake and Dashie, hobnobbing with the Lady of Menagerie?"

"Do you wish you were there?" Ciel asked. "I am sure you would have been invited, were you not—”

"Grounded."

"Indeed."

Neon shrugged. "What do I care about Menagerie? Mantle is my home, and unlike some … some faunus might dream of getting out and going to live on Menagerie, dipping their toes in the tropical sea, but not me. Not my family either. I think you'd have to drag Mom out of her house kicking and screaming, and you could follow the route to the airship to take her to the boat by the way her fingernails had been digging into the tarmac. For her, going to Menagerie would mean admitting that she'd failed in Mantle, and she'd never admit that."

"Your mother has no failure to admit to," Ciel said. "From cleaner to manager of a prestigious hotel, that is quite an accomplishment."

"I know, you don't have to tell me that," Neon said. She paused for a moment. "Do you … can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything, and I will answer it," Ciel said. "Within reason."

"Our going to Atlas Academy, it gets treated like this big thing," Neon said. "But, do you ever worry that, having gotten there, we won't turn out to be as nearly as impressive as our parents who worked so hard and sacrificed to get us there?"

"You are become philosophical."

"I'm sorry; it's the dark of the night," Neon replied. "It won't happen when the sun is up, I promise."

Ciel snorted. She hesitated. "Somewhat," she admitted. "You?"

"I wouldn't have brought it up if it hadn't crossed my mind," Neon said.

"All the more reason for us to aim high, no?" Ciel said. "Major Katt, of the … have any particular preference?"

"Hmm…" Neon mused. "No, I'm not too fussed. But what's this 'Major' business? Colonel Katt, if you please. And you can be my XO."

A smile played upon Ciel's face. "Can I? Well, thank you for that. I thought you were considering not joining the military?"

"I'm still considering it, considering not," Neon said. "But … it's all very well and all very worthy, but you need rank to feel like you've made it in the Kingdom of Atlas."

"And do you?" Ciel asked. "Want to feel like you have made it?"

"I mean, I wouldn't mind it," Neon replied. "What's the point of being as awesome as me if nobody knows you are? I haven't made up my mind, but if I did … it would repay all of Mom's hard work, and Dad's too, all those nights driving taxis." She paused. "But yeah, to answer your original question, I don't want to go and hang out with Blake's mom; she's nothing to me. You?"

"If she is so little to you, what should she be to me?" Ciel asked. "Besides, if I had gone down to dinner tonight, who would have kept you company?"

Neon's eyebrows rose, but she smiled, or looked as though she might smile, or looked in fact as though she were struggling not to smile, all the same.

"When's Amber going to show herself then?"

Ciel checked the time on her watch, the silver one on this occasion. "It's almost time," she said.


Pyrrha clasped her hands together. “Oh, Amber, you look wonderful!”

Amber looked down, her gaze sweeping up the borrowed dress she wore. “Really? Do you think so?”

“I really do,” Pyrrha insisted. “I would not say it if I didn’t mean it. It suits you.”

Amber smiled bashfully, even as she said, “Not as well as it suited you, I’m sure.”

“It was made for me, but I don’t think that there is too much in it,” Pyrrha replied. “Red as a colour doesn’t demand anything to match, thankfully. Although I am sorry that we didn’t think to get you a few additions to your own wardrobe when we were in Vale.”

“It’s alright,” Amber assured her. “I mean … what would have been the point?”

Pyrrha felt as though she knew what Amber meant, but nevertheless, as her brow furrowed beneath her circlet, she felt compelled to ask, “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Amber trailed off for a moment. “That when this time is over, this tournament … Ozpin is going to lock me away in the darkness, in some lonely place where there is no one and no one can find me. What am I going to do with gowns and dresses then? What occasions will I have to wear them, what parties will I attend, what reason will I ever have to dress up?”

“For yourself?” Pyrrha suggested. “For your own pleasure, your own happiness, because it makes you feel beautiful and happy, is that not reason enough?” She paused. “Or, if that is not enough for you, then you must have a dress for when you visit Mistral, and I shall take you to the palace as my guest, I insist upon it.”

Amber smiled, but her smile had something melancholy about it; it did not reach her eyes, or if it did, it sparked no light of joy in them that suffused radiance in her face. “You don’t need to pretend, Pyrrha,” she murmured, turning away from Pyrrha with a swish of her red dress, the skirt rustling as Amber retreated to the window seat, sitting down there with her back to the curtains and her hands resting between her legs. The golden bands upon her wrists glimmered softly in the artificial light within.

“You don’t need to pretend,” she repeated. “I’m not going to Mistral, or Atlas either, or anywhere else; Ozpin won’t allow it.”

“Ozpin, Professor Ozpin, is not your master,” Pyrrha replied, walking towards her, sitting down upon her own bed, close enough to Amber to reach out for her, although she refrained from doing so right way. “He may not say where you may go, or not go; he does not own you. If you wish to come to my city—”

“I do,” Amber said quickly, before carrying on just as swiftly, before Pyrrha could say anything, “but at the same time … although I don’t like Ozpin, although I don’t want to be stuffed away like the bride in the old oak chest, I … I can’t … I don’t … I’m scared, Pyrrha. I’m scared of Salem, I’m scared of Cinder, I’m scared of what’s out there, and I … I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to be attacked, I don’t want to be in danger, and if that means that I have to hide in the darkness, then … then I’ll do it. I’m not brave enough to stand in the light if that puts me in peril.” She paused. “I’m sorry.”

“'Sorry'?” Pyrrha repeated. “Sorry for what? What have you to be sorry about? If you do not wish to visit Mistral, that is your decision; I have no right to drag you there any more than Professor Ozpin has to leash you. But if you are worried, I do not say that you are not right to be worried, in your position—”

“I’m sure in my position you’d be very brave,” Amber said. “I’m sure that you’d go exactly where you wanted to, no matter the risk.”

“Is that bravery or foolhardiness?” asked Pyrrha. “Some would say I have been both, at one time or another, but deny that they are one and the same.” Now it was her turn to pause. “What I was going to say was that … if you went to Ciel or Rainbow Dash, perhaps even Blake, they would tell you that Atlas is the safest city in Remnant, guarded by a ceaseless vigil.”

“And you?” asked Amber. “Would you tell me the same of Mistral?”

“I would not be so bold,” Pyrrha said, “but our swords are sharp, and our hearts are valiant, and I think that there is little chance that Cinder, or any agent of Salem, will attack you in the middle of the street in a great city.”

Amber bowed her head. “I wish this power had never come to me. Then Dove and I could go wherever we wanted, see whatever we wanted, live however we wanted. I wish that I didn’t have to be afraid, that I didn’t have to look over my shoulder, that I didn’t need to be guarded all the time. I wish that I could go out to eat without Ciel watching over me with a big gun, I wish…”

“That you might be away from this war, and live unchanging after?” Pyrrha guessed. “There are many who would share your sentiments.”

“Even you?” asked Amber.

“I … I must prove my merit and earn the adulation that is bestowed upon me with great deeds,” Pyrrha said. “Yet even I…” Now she reached out and took Amber’s hands in her own. “If I could take this burden from you, I would so, in a heartbeat, and so would many others here, I know. But, since we cannot … we must find what joy we can in the lives that have been granted to us.” She got up and pulled Amber to her feet also, putting a smile upon her face. “So come on,” she said. “No more of such sad talk, not tonight. We are too lovely to be sad, no, and with too much to smile about.”

Amber giggled. “I … yes, yes, I suppose we do. After all, I’m safe here, and you’re here, and Dove and Jaune aren’t far away, and … and I’m awake. And I’m alive, and I … there are no shadows here. I’m surrounded by lights that keep them all away. Thank you, again, for the dress.”

“It was no trouble,” Pyrrha assured her. “In fact, I’ll go so far as to say that it was my pleasure.”

Amber was wearing one of Pyrrha’s red dresses, the one in the Mistralian style that she had worn on her last night in Alba Longa, the dress with the golden belt around the waist, the golden detailing around the chest, the band of gold that seemed to support Amber’s bust and run upwards to the swooping collar, the dress with the sleeves that had been slit open so that they hardly seemed like sleeves at all, falling down the sides of the bodice and the skirt while leaving Amber’s shoulders and arms bare to the world.

Amber had exchanged the vambrace on her left arm for one of Pyrrha’s moderately large gold bracelets, while on her right arm, she had stacked her existing bracelets above the one that she had borrowed from Pyrrha.

It was perhaps not the gown that, of all the dresses Pyrrha owned, would absolutely suit Amber the best, but Pyrrha thought that the gown of hers that would best suit Amber’s complexion and the shade of her eyes was the gold ballgown that was embroidered with so many white camellias, and while Pyrrha was not averse to dressing up simply because you wished to do, because it would please you to look pleasing to the eye, there probably had to be some limits.

And putting on a full ballgown adorned with so many flowers that it looked as though they were bursting out of the bodice probably pushed a little over those limits.

Besides, while it might not be the best, the red dress suited her very well.

Amber had also borrowed one of Pyrrha’s necklaces, the heavy gold one that she had worn to the Mistralian embassy, the three bands of gold and the three ingots hanging from it shaped roughly like arrows. The emeralds didn’t really go with anything, but that was going to be an unavoidable issue with a lot of things that Amber borrowed from Pyrrha.

“How are you finding the skirt?” Pyrrha asked, because of course the trouble with Amber borrowing one of Pyrrha’s dresses was that Pyrrha was rather taller than Amber was, so they had had to take up the hem of the skirt a little with safety pins so that Amber could walk without tripping over the dress. Ciel and Ruby had, before they departed to take up their respective sentry posts, done a very good job in hiding said safety pins from the casual eye, so that if Pyrrha hadn’t known they were there, she would never have, well, known they were there.

Nevertheless, she wanted to be sure that the skirt had been taken up enough.

“It’s fine,” Amber assured her. She smiled, and this time, her smile reached her eyes, and even seemed to soften what little of her scars could be seen beneath the makeup that Ciel had helped Amber apply. “You look very lovely yourself, by the way. That’s a gorgeous cape.”

“Thank you,” Pyrrha said. “I’m rather fond of this one.” She was wearing the black and green dress that she had worn to accompany Jaune to Alba Longa on the first day, the black bodice with the green skirt and the forest green cape that covered her neck and shoulders before falling down her back. Like Amber, she wore a pair of golden bracelets on her wrists, and like Amber, she had painted her nails golden.

Or rather, Amber had painted Pyrrha’s nails, and Pyrrha had painted Amber’s. It had been rather enjoyable.

“It’s a very nice cape,” Amber repeated. “Perhaps I should wear mine?”

“You could, of course,” Pyrrha said, “but I’m not sure how well the green would go with the red of the dress.”

“Mmm, you’re probably right,” Amber admitted. She hesitated. “This … it is alright, isn’t it? I mean, it isn’t too much?”

“Probably it is,” Pyrrha admitted, a little laughter in her voice. “But what of that? If we enjoy the way we look, who should tell us that we are wrong?”

“Joy, while we can,” Amber said softly.

“Exactly,” Pyrrha agreed. “Now, I believe our—”

The door opened, revealing Jaune and Dove on the other side.

“Perfect timing,” Pyrrha declared, turning to face them both, her green cape swirling around her as she turned.

The two boys were more casually dressed than the two girls, in different ways, which was not a mark against them, to be sure; if they were comfortable, then there was no need to observe a dress code of any kind, any more than there was any need for the girls to show except that they wished to do so.

Jaune wore a very bright yellow t-shirt, with his orange detachable sleeves covering more of his arms, and a similarly orange shirt — button up, but short-sleeved — worn over the top of it, the buttons undone to reveal the yellow t-shirt underneath. His trousers were white-grey, like his now-absent armour, and on his feet, he wore his usual trainers. Around his waist, he wore a red sash, shorter than Pyrrha’s — it did not come near the floor — but long enough to reach his knees regardless, wrapped around his belt in a serpentine fashion as well as being tied off on the right hand side.

Dove, on the other hand, was dressed entirely in subdued colours, in shades of grey and black and brown. He wore a grey-brown tunic, somewhat long, descending past his waist all the way to his thighs, clasped about the waist with a black belt whose brass buckle provided perhaps the only colour in the outfit; the collar, shoulders and sleeves were black, with the collar being open and turned downwards at the tips. His trousers were brown, and accompanied by a pair of dark brown boots reaching almost to his knees.

“Dove,” Amber gasped, “that’s—”

“What I was wearing when we met,” Dove confirmed, stepping into the room. “Yes, it seemed … right.” He smiled. “That, and I wasn’t really sure about the puffy shoulders on the outfit Lyra and Bon Bon wanted to put me in.”

Amber snorted and giggled lightly at the same time, half-covering her mouth with one hand as she did so, “Well, now you’ve got me intrigued.”

“Really?” Dove murmured. “I suppose I shall have to wear it then at some point, won’t I?” His voice was reluctant, but the smile on his face gave him away as he crossed the room to stand in front of Amber. “You look beautiful,” he said, reaching out to brush his knuckles across her face.

Amber reached up and clasped his hand in both her own. “Pyrrha’s been very kind, lending me her dress.”

Dove glanced at Pyrrha for a moment, but said nothing.

“Hey, Dove, take a step back for a second,” Jaune said, getting out his scroll and holding it up. “Let me get a picture of the two of them.”

Dove, obediently and without argument, retreated out of the way, leaving the field between Jaune on one side of the room and Pyrrha and Amber on the other, clear.

“Okay, now close up a little,” Jaune instructed. “Um, Pyrrha, you might want to bend down a little bit so I can get you both in the shot clearly.”

Pyrrha chuckled and did as she was bade, putting one arm around Amber’s waist — and feeling Amber do likewise — as the two of them closed up together, shoulder to, well, side due to the height difference between them. Pyrrha bent down, arcing her body sideways so that her head came down level with Amber’s, or near enough, even if at a slight angle.

“Perfect,” Jaune said. “Now smile.”

The two of them beamed, for though there were many shadows in the world, this was a moment of light, and all the more to be appreciated because of the shadows that lay about.

“Got it,” Jaune said, before he turned his scroll lengthwise. “Now let me just get a full-length shot … and got that too.”

“Send me a copy, will you?” Dove asked.

“Sure thing; I’ll do it after dinner if that’s okay.”

“Fine by me,” Dove replied. He paused for a moment. “Do you feel underdressed?”

“That is not my intent, I assure you,” Pyrrha said. “This for my, for our benefit, not your obligation. So long as you’re comfortable, that’s all that matters.”

“And besides,” Jaune added, a touch of amusement in his voice, “I always feel a little underdressed, standing next to Pyrrha.”

“Well,” Amber said, “in picture books, when the prince and princess stand next to each other, or dance, does anyone really care what the prince is wearing?” She paused a moment. “Although,” she added, “you’re wearing a sash, Jaune.”

One of Jaune’s hands strayed down to the aforementioned sash. “Yeah.”

“And Pyrrha, you … well, you’re not wearing one now, but you usually do,” Amber said. “And Jaune, I … have I seen you wearing that before?”

“Um, maybe, yeah,” Jaune replied. “Why?”

Amber smiled, a smile that hovered somewhere between smug and sweet. “Which of you started wearing it first, and which one of you did it to match?”

“Oh, that was me,” Jaune said, a little touch of colour rising to his cheeks, “I mean, I came second. You see—”

“That is a story,” Pyrrha said, “which might be told at the table.”

“Right,” Jaune agreed. “I mean, we’re ready if you are.”

“We’re ready,” Amber said, taking Pyrrha’s arm just below the elbow, even as she offered her other hand to Dove.

Dove took it, even as Jaune fell in on the free side of Pyrrha, taking her hand inside his own.

And so they departed, leaving the dorm room and proceeding down the corridors and stairs, sometimes having to break or disrupt their line in the process, until they passed out of the dormitory altogether and into the cool night air.

As they walked away, crossing the courtyard and heading across the campus in the direction of Benni Haven’s, Pyrrha glanced upwards and back at the dorm. She could not see Ciel, but she fancied that she did catch a glint of moonlight upon the scope of Distant Thunder, telling her that Ciel was there and watching over them.

As like as not, it was her imagination, but she knew that the Atlesian girl would be there, regardless. She was a woman of her word, after all.

She’s being extraordinarily decent, Pyrrha thought. I shall have to make it up to her somehow.

Although I’m not sure how.

I could always start by asking her; perhaps she will not disdain gratitude.

And so, under the gun of the watching Ciel, they left the school — just about, not going so far that Professor Ozpin’s tighter strictures about Amber’s protection needed to be observed, or else Pyrrha and Jaune would have had to go armed, with less opportunity to dress up — and approached the old hunting lodge with the neon sign upon the roof.

The old hunting lodge that was now surrounded — at least in front — by a forest of outdoor tables and chairs, sprawling out on either side of the cinder path, covering the grass that grew before the wooden walls of Benni Haven’s.

Benni herself was outside, her tail curled up at the tip, putting out even more tables and chairs. She unfolded and put down the last chair of the four that she had been holding and turned around as they reached the path.

Benni put her prosthetic hand upon her hip. “Now, what are a pair of pretty girls like you doing at a dive like this?” she asked.

“Aha, hoping for a table,” Pyrrha said, a slight wince in her voice as she began to worry that, yes, they were overdressed.

Benni spread her arms out, gesturing at the sea of tables all around her, and all of them empty. “Well, as you can see, there are plenty of ‘em,” she said, “but there’s also plenty of room inside, which you might prefer.”

“It might be a little warmer inside,” Pyrrha said. The four of them began to walk down the path towards the door. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing?”

“Temporarily expanding my business,” Benni declared. “As you’ll know as well as anyone, the Vytal Tournament is right around the corner, which means everyone and their three kids will be descending on Beacon to watch the fights. But where are they going to eat when they get up here, are they going to fly back down to Vale? No, they’re going to come to Benni Haven’s, that’s where they’re gonna go. I’ve got a captive market.”

“Isn’t there food served at the fairgrounds?” asked Jaune.

“Yeah, but have you ever tried the fairground food?” asked Benni. “Take it from me, it’s terrible. Trust me, I’m going to clean up. Hence the extra seating capacity. I’ve even taken on a couple of extra hands to help out in the kitchen. And I’ve got Rowlf to bring that Benni Haven’s atmosphere outside too.”

She gestured towards a fake grimm that it took Pyrrha a moment to identify as a sabyr, a species of grimm native — insofar as that word could be applied to the grimm — to Solitas, a sleek, catlike grimm that walked on all fours, with a sharp, icy white skull and what looked like shards of ice growing out of its black fur amidst the bony spines. Sabyrs, from what Pyrrha had read, typically had two sabre-teeth descending down from their upper jaws, but Rowlf only had one, the other looking as though it had been cracked off.

Around his neck, there hung a sign saying Children Please Ride On Me.

“Has Beacon had the Vytal Festival since you opened this place up?” Jaune asked.

“No, that was the year I lost my arm,” Benni said as she walked towards them. “I watched the final from a hospital bed. I didn’t buy this place until the next year, when I’d worked out what I wanted to do next. But this has already been the best year for this place since I opened up, on account of all the students from Atlas, Haven, and Shade, so I’m pretty sure I’m right that this is going to be big.” She paused. “Anyway, you want to get inside and get something to eat, not stand out here listening to me yammer on. We’ve got special Vytal Festival menus you should try.” She paused again, her eyes lingering on Amber. “You know, I know Dove, I know Jaune, and I know Pyrrha, but I don’t know you.”

“Amber,” Amber said quietly. “My name is Amber Briarrose.”

Benni smiled. “Nice to meet you, Amber, my name’s Benni, Benni Haven, it’s my name on the roof.” She held out her prosthetic hand.

Amber regarded the artificial limb warily; Pyrrha wondered if she had ever seen the like before. Raised where she had been, there was a good chance that the answer to that was no; it was the kind of medical technology that had not yet spread outside of the big cities, and even then, unless you were wealthy or well-connected — or had wealthy or well-connected friends — there was a good chance that you would wait and long in vain for such a device as that. Such, at least, was the case in Mistral — that was why Pyrrha had been honoured to help the Asclepius Institute in any way she could — it was perhaps different in Atlas, but in Vale? Benni did not seem to be particularly wealthy or well-connected, but she had been a huntress; perhaps they got preferential treatment.

Or perhaps it was simply better in Vale.

In any case, Pyrrha judged it likely that Amber had not seen a limb quite like hers before.

Amber took Benni’s offered hand, but tentatively, as if she feared that Benni’s grip might crush her bones. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said quietly.

Benni shook her hand gently. “So,” she said, ignoring Amber’s uncertainty around her arm, “what team are you on, and why’s it taken you so long to get down here to Benni Haven’s, huh?”

“Amber isn’t a huntress,” Pyrrha explained. “She’s our guest at Beacon for a little while.”

“Oh,” Benni said, showing only the smallest amount of surprise and no real curiosity. She glanced at Dove, and her eyes seemed to find Amber’s hand in the crook of his arm. “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Hey, wait a second! For weeks at the start of this year, I had you and Lyra and Bon Bon coming in, and you were talking about some chick; you asked me if I’d seen her, is she—?”

“Yes,” Dove said, unable to keep the smile off his face as he placed his free hand on top of Amber’s. “Yes, this is she. This is Amber.”

Benni grinned as she put both hands on her hips. “Well, I’ll be damned.” She fell silent for a moment, opening her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but then saying nothing. “You know, it doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “Congratulations, kiddo; you know, that explains something. Anyway, as I said, you don’t want to be standing out here, so go right in, pick any table you want; I’ll be right behind you.”

Amber and Dove temporarily split up from Jaune and Pyrrha, the four parting to flow around Benni, who reached out to tousle Dove’s hair indulgently as he went by, repeating her congratulations to him.

“You know her?” Amber asked.

Dove nodded. “Everyone knows her, and not just because she owns this place, but because she goes out of her way to know us too. She’s great. It’s like having an aunt who lives right outside the school.”

“I heard that!” Benni called to them. “Call me Auntie or Aunt Benni, and you’ll be banned for life!”

Dove laughed as Jaune pushed open the door and the four of them stepped inside, greeted as always by Fluffy, snarling affably at the door as he held out his paws to swipe — or hug — anyone who crossed the threshold.

Ruby and Penny were already seated in the corner of the restaurant, Ruby nursing a cup of some sort of hot drink — Pyrrha could see the steam rising from the large cup but couldn’t make out what was in said cup — while Penny had a bag of crisps open on the table in front of her.

On the table in between them sat a boardgame that looked to be set in some sort of jungle from the looks of it.

Pyrrha couldn’t see Crescent Rose, but she knew that Ruby would have it with her; she, like Ciel, was helping to keep Amber safe tonight, as indeed was Penny.

Ruby raised one hand towards them as they came in, which prompted Penny, with her back to the door, to turn and wave to them also.

“Salutations, everyone!” she called out.

“Good evening, Penny,” Amber said. “Ruby.”

“Hey,” Ruby said. “It’s your roll, Penny.”

“Oh, right,” Penny said, picking up the dice and rolling it across the board. She sounded disappointed as she announced, “Five.” She picked up a blue piece and began to move it across the squares of the board, bearing down upon a red piece just up ahead. “One, two, three, four,” she paused, the blue piece in Penny’s hand hovering over the red piece.

“Five,” Ruby prompted.

“But I don’t want to knock you off the board,” Penny complained. “You haven’t got any of your other pieces off the basecamp.”

“Neither do you, Penny, so you can’t move any other piece than that one,” Ruby told her.

Penny pouted. “I don’t see why we can’t cooperate to get out of this jungle.”

Ruby chuckled. “You know, knocking me off the board used to be Yang’s favourite part of this game.”

“Hello, Lyra,” Dove said. “Bon Bon.”

His words drew Pyrrha’s attention to the fact that, yes, Lyra and Bon were there, sat not facing one another but side by side, facing the door even though they were sat near the back of the restaurant, in a position to see all of it.

Despite the fact that they were both facing the door, nevertheless, Lyra feigned a look of surprise. “Hey there, guys! Fancy seeing you here.”

Dove’s eyebrows rose. “You knew I was coming here. I told you.”

“And we decided to come as well, since it’s a free kingdom,” Bon Bon said. “To eat dinner and not to rubberneck in any way, shape, or form.”

Dove muttered wordlessly, but Amber looked amused as the four of them walked towards a table in the middle of the restaurant.

“You have very good friends,” Amber said.

“I know,” Dove agreed. “But don’t tell them that, for goodness’ sake.”

Benni came in as they sat down, and told them, “I’ll be right there with the menus,” before she walked to grab them from the back of the house, returning swiftly with both the regular menus and the Vytal Festival menus, printed on colourful green card with a picture of the Amity Colosseum upon the front, floating high up in the sky with clouds all around it.

“I’ll give you a second to take a look,” Benni said.

“Thanks,” Jaune replied.

“Hey, Ruby, Penny, you two figured out what you want yet?” Benni asked, bustling over to their table.

“Can we start with a sharing bowl of Friendship Fries, and can I get a side of mac and cheese?” asked Ruby.

“Coming right up,” Benni said, taking the notepad out from one pocket of her apron and jotting down Ruby’s order in it as she walked away.

Amber stared down at the special menu, the tips of her fingers running over the image of the Amity Arena.

“It’s flying,” she murmured.

“Indeed,” Pyrrha said. “That is where the chosen contestants will compete in the Vytal Tournament, a flying colosseum capable of travelling from one kingdom to another under its own power. It’s … a marvel of the modern age.”

She opened up the menu; it unfolded from the centre, revealing an interior that was designed to look like the interior of the arena, complete with silhouetted figures battling at the bottom of the page. A lot of the items on the menu looked to be very similar to the items on the main menu, only with Vytal references in their names like All Day Breakfast of Champions, the Two-on-Two Round Burger — two burger patties, each with two rashers of maple-cured bacon on top — or the Friendship Fries that Ruby had just ordered. However, there did appear to be some slight difference in what made up the breakfast, the seasoning on the fries, that sort of thing.

“So that’s what Arslan meant when she talked about the Colosseum arriving, so that you could do your filming?” Amber asked.

“Yes, I remember that too,” Dove said. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you making a documentary?”

“I’m not making it; Arslan and I are merely presenting a little of it,” Pyrrha said. “It’s for Mistralian State Television, and I suppose they wanted a couple of famous faces associated with the tournament. Arslan did us a kindness last semester, and she asked me to repay her by doing this programme.”

Amber nodded. “But you’re starting tomorrow, even though the arena hasn’t arrived yet?”

Pyrrha nodded. “It sounds as though we’ll be doing some interviews — hopefully, the questions have been written for us — and talking to some of the other students about … well, what the Vytal Festival means to them, I suppose: glory for some, a celebration of peace for others, great honour or simply a respite from more serious battles, the chance to relax in a battle with rules instead of monsters or murderers.” She smiled. “Or all of the above, as the case may be.”

“Do you wish you were fighting, Dove?” Amber asked. “Do you wish that you could?”

“Yes,” Dove admitted. “Yes, I do. Or at least, I did. I … I wished that I could have the chance to strut in front of the crowds and the cameras, to show my quality. But it’s not to be, and it would have been … it would have verged on monstrous to have been upset about that when the reason for it was … well, it was the least of our worries once, and now…” He reached across the table and placed his hand on hers. “Now, it doesn’t seem to really matter; there are so many more important things.”

“You’re right,” Jaune said, “but it’s the more important things that make having the break matter, almost.”

Dove looked at him. “You’re looking forward to it, then.”

Jaune shrugged. “I know that I’m not going to progress past the four-on-four round, so it’s not like I’m looking forward to lots of opportunities to show what I’ve got, but … would I like one chance to show how I’ve improved since I started out, to show my parents and my family that I’m not hopeless? Yeah, sure I would. I want them to see for themselves that I can handle myself, that I can do this. But more importantly, I want—”

“Pyrrha to succeed,” Amber suggested.

Jaune chuckled. “Well, that, yeah,” he agreed. “Obviously, I want to see you go as far as you can. If that’s what you want.”

“It is what my mother wants,” Pyrrha murmured. “She has prepared me for this moment for more years of my life than not.”

“But is it what you want?” Jaune pressed. “Or would you rather send Sunset through to the one-on-one round?”

Pyrrha’s lips twitched upwards. “I fear that if that were suggested, Sunset would split in two, torn in half between her delight and her horror.” She paused. “Actually … that would have been true, once, but now … I am not sure the desire for glory burns so strong in her now; in fact, I know that it does not. There might be a deal more horror than delight, especially when she thought about what my mother might say.”

Pyrrha hesitated, clasping her hands together upon the table, gathering her thoughts.

“I am not free from pride,” she confessed. “Nor vanity either. I am not so humble as I … for all that I have spoken of my dislike for my reputation, I am not without concern with it. If this is to be my last tournament, and it will be, then I would rather bow out a champion of champions, if such is within my grasp, than anything else. The truth is that I did not triumph in Mistral four times solely because my mother wished it so, but because I did not wish to suffer the sting of defeat. That desire, that reluctance, is as strong in me now as it has ever been.”

Amber frowned. "You … enjoy it, then? Fighting?"

"In … in abstract, yes," Pyrrha said. "In the right conditions, the proper circumstances, when bounded by rules, guidelines, conventions of honour understood by both sides, then, yes. Perhaps I should not say so, but there is a beauty in the song of swords, a melody pleasing to the ear even when one's own life is at the hazard." She paused. "Of course, when there are more lives than one's own being ventured, then … then the beauty falls away, and there is little left but desperation."

"It's always desperate," Amber murmured, looking away from Pyrrha. "It's always desperate, and it's always awful, even when it is a game. Even then … it isn't."

At the moment, before Pyrrha or anyone else could reply to Amber's point, Benni returned and took their orders, providing a momentary distraction from the conversation. By the time that she had gone again, all their wants and desires written down upon her notepad, a silence lingered after her.

Amber rested one elbow on the table, her arm propped up, and leaned upon her hand. "So, Jaune," she said. "You were going to tell us what prompted you to start wearing that sash. Was it so you and Pyrrha would match?"

Jaune laughed. "Well, I mean … I wasn't exactly thinking of that." He took a breath. "Honestly, it isn't much of a story, really, and it's going to seem really anticlimactic now that you've waited for it, but … Pyrrha's always worn a sash, with her combat gear, I mean, for as long as I've known her." He looked at Pyrrha. "You can't see it on the cereal box, but the rest of your outfit is the same, so—"

"Yes," Pyrrha answered the question before he could ask it. "Yes, I wore it at that time; it was a gift from Chariclo."

"Chariclo, I can't take this."

"Why not? It is easy; you reach out with your hands and grasp for it. All those lessons with Chiron, and he hasn't taught you how to pick things up?"

Pyrrha laughed. "I mean … this cloth is very fine quality—"

"The best quality, as fine as any member of the Weaver's Guild could weave," Chariclo declared. "Do you think I would give you some ill-made rubbish that will fall apart in three weeks?"

"No, of course not," Pyrrha replied, marvelling at Chariclo's ability to put her on the back foot. She could only conclude it was a good thing that she spoke better with Miló than with her own tongue. "But, what I mean is, this must have been expensive."

Chariclo shrugged. "What is the point of being married to the most renowned tutor-in-arms in Mistral if you cannot afford a few expensive things from time to time?" she asked reasonably enough. "And from this bolt of expensive cloth, I make a tunic for my husband, which he does not appreciate, a dress and shawl for myself, which I appreciate, and with what remains, I make this sash for you, which you had better appreciate, or I will show you that I can still rap you across the knuckles, warrior or no."

Pyrrha could not help but laugh at that. "That … this is very generous," she said. "Too much so, I fear; it is not for you to give me gifts, who have done so much for me ever since I was a babe. I should be the one giving you gifts to repay all your service, all your kindness."

"I will take my repayment in your living a good life," Chariclo said. "And not as my husband means it: honour, glory, fah!" She waved one hand dismissively. "Be happy, my child, and come back safe from all your battles." She reached out and tapped the new honour band that Pyrrha wore upon her left arm. "You took a gift from Chiron."

"That was tradition."

"And if you refuse me this, it will be an insult," Chariclo said. "And you would not refuse old Chariclo, would you? Not when I am so old and have so little left to live for?"

Again, Pyrrha could not help but laugh, covering her mouth with one hand. "You have many years left in you, I have no doubt," she said. More years, perhaps, than I do, the life of a huntress being what it is. "But I will take this gift, with all gratitude and humility, for all that I hardly feel I deserve it." She reached out, and as Chariclo had first bidden her, she took the sash in both her hands. "I swear that I will bear this proudly and do honour to you by my deeds in wearing it."

"Chariclo," Amber repeated. "Who is Chariclo?"

"My nurse, when I was a little girl," Pyrrha explained. "Her husband, Chiron, taught me all I know of combat, of spear and sword and gun. And while he taught me, Chariclo continued to care for me much as she had done, to feed me and clothe me." She smiled, a tad bashfully, a little colour rising to her cheeks. "I fear she spoiled me a little, compared to the other children in Chiron's charge. She … made it a very happy time." Before I became famous.

"Is she going to watch you in the Vytal Festival?" asked Jaune.

"I think that is more likely than not," Pyrrha said mildly. "She used to send me cards whenever I won the Mistral tournament."

"She sounds lovely," Amber said. "I wonder … I wonder how Blake is getting on with her mother."

"Well, I hope," Pyrrha said.

"Have they really not seen one another for years?" Dove asked. "I can't imagine that, not if they're both alive. Just … not talking, not seeing each other, not writing to one another, nothing? No contact at all?"

"Sometimes, you have to get away," Jaune said. "Sometimes, it just doesn't seem like there's a way forward, it just looks like there's no choice at all but to go separate ways."

"But for years?" Dove asked. "For years?"

"Blake is filled with righteousness and passionate intensity," Pyrrha said quietly. "I think that, for her, leaving her family behind would be, however hard a price it was to pay, a price worth paying in the service of a higher goal. And, while it appears that Blake's mother was blameless in whatever rift might be said to have formed between them, it is not always so. Sometimes, a child has good reason to turn away from their mother."

"But even you turned back towards her, didn't you, Pyrrha?" Amber asked. "That's why she's coming tomorrow?"

"Yes," Pyrrha murmured. "Yes, she is. But that was … I would not have done so if she had not at least signalled a willingness to admit her wrongdoing." She looked at Jaune. "Jaune, are you going to be alright meeting her tomorrow; if you'd rather not, I'm sure that Sunset will be alright on her—"

"It's fine," Jaune said.

"Because I realise that it was rather presumptuous to ask, because in a way, you were rather more insulted by what she did than even I was, and she hasn't apologised to you—"

"It's fine."

"So if you'd rather not see her, or even that I—"

"Pyrrha," Jaune said, his voice rising above her own as he reached across the table to take her hands. "It's fine," he said, for the third time and in the heaviest manner possible. "I told you, I don't want to be the reason why you don't talk to your mom. If you don't want anything to do with her, then that's fine too, I won't push you, but I want you to decide for yourself, not because of what I want and certainly not because of what you think I want. And because I don't think that you don't want to talk to your mom," — he paused, eyes turning upwards as though he were checking that his words had properly conveyed his meaning — "I'm happy to go and meet her at the skydock, though I'm glad Sunset will be there too — mostly. She knows how to deal with your mom, but she might also make me look bad by comparison."

Pyrrha smiled. "You shouldn't care what she thinks of you."

"I don't," Jaune assured her. "Except when she's standing right in front of me, giving me that look."

Pyrrha giggled now, looking down at her hands, and Jaune's hands atop them, gently holding hers. "For better or worse, she is my mother," she said. "My link to the long line of my ancestors. Not to mention the fact that my home is her home. I … am glad that I do not have to sever all ties with her, and for what it's worth, I think that Blake is glad, too, that her mother has chosen to reach out to her in so dramatic a fashion."

"I…" Amber began. "I wish that I had more time with my mother, and not only because if she were here, then I wouldn't be … I'm sorry, Dove; I know that she wasn't fond of you, but—"

"But she was your mother, nonetheless; I understand that," Dove assured her. "Knowing what I now know about what … about everything, I can understand why she didn't want me around, even if I'm glad she didn't get her way."

Amber nodded. "But all the same, she always seemed so … she knew what to do, or at least, I thought she did; she was always … I don't know how she managed to bear it. She was so strong. More like … more like all of you, than me."

"There are many kinds of strength," Pyrrha said. "The strength to bear misfortune as you have suffered, and still to smile, that is strength in itself, strength to be envied."

Amber did not protest it; in fact she said, "You're very kind." But she did not look particularly reassured; in fact, she looked slightly distant for a moment before she said, almost crying out, "Jaune, the sash! I'm sorry, we keep interrupting."

"It's fine," Jaune assured her. "Like I said, it's not much to say, I mean … there was a class, an exercise, Pyrrha and I were split up. It was supposed to test how well we could work with other partners; anyway, it meant that I was going into the Emerald Forest to fight the grimm ahead of her. And so Pyrrha gave me her sash."

"So that a part of her would still be with you," Amber murmured approvingly.

"Yeah," Jaune agreed. "And … I thought it looked okay on me, maybe even kind of cool, so … I guess I decided to copy her." He shrugged. "I said it wasn't much of a story."

"I don't mind," Amber said. "And you're right, it does suit you."

She said … little else. Amber was rather quiet for the rest of the evening, all through dinner, and as they left to make their way back towards the dorm.

As they passed back into Beacon itself, passing under the eyes of the Emerald Tower that gleamed above, Amber stopped, halting in place as if she had been suddenly frozen.

"Amber?" Pyrrha asked.

Amber was silent a moment, and then a moment more. "Jaune, Dove, would you … would you give us a moment?" She raised her voice. "Ruby, Penny, would you come here please?"

Ruby and Penny had both been lagging behind a little bit, keeping a discreet distance, but now, they hastened to join the others.

"Is everything alright?" asked Penny. "Is there anything we can help with?"

Amber didn't answer her. She glanced at Dove. "Dove…"

Dove looked a little disappointed, but also looked to be trying to keep from showing it. "Of course," he said. He stepped forward, taking her by the arms, and kissed her. "Good—" He kissed her again. "Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning?"

"You will," Amber promised. "You will."

Jaune said, "I'll see you back in the dorm room?"

Pyrrha nodded. "Of course."

"Okay," Jaune said. "I'll … leave you to it." He retreated, Dove with him, melting away into the darkness, their footsteps echoing somewhat on the stone as they left the girls behind.

"Amber," Ruby said softly. "What is it? What is it that you couldn't say in front of Jaune or Dove?"

"Nothing, really, but … I feel like this is a thing for us," Amber said. "For girls. I want you to come with me; once Sunset comes back, I want you all to come with me."

"Come with you?" Ruby repeated. "Come with you where?"

"To the Relic," Amber declared. "I want to show you how to find the Relic of Choice."

Author's Note:

No new chapter this Friday as I will be away.

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